Adrian’s footage had been copied.

Malik’s statement was recorded.

Mercer’s body camera was collected.

Predictably, it had been turned off.

Sloan looked at Adrian.

“You crossed the line.”

“I know.”

“You were supposed to observe.”

“He was assaulting the kid.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t going to watch.”

“I know.”

Adrian studied her.

“You’re not suspending me?”

“For what? Ruining seven months of surveillance by catching him committing exactly what we suspected?”

She almost smiled.

Then her expression became serious.

“You understand his lawyer will say you provoked him.”

“He’ll say everything.”

“He’ll say you targeted Mercer personally.”

“I didn’t put that bag in his pocket.”

“No.”

Sloan crossed her arms.

“That’s why today may finally be enough.”

Adrian looked through the glass at the evidence bag.

“Not enough.”

“What?”

“We need to reopen every complaint.”

“We will.”

“No.”

Adrian looked at her.

“Every one.”

Sloan understood.

Some were years old.

Witnesses moved.

Memories faded.

Evidence disappeared.

Reopening twenty-one cases would consume months.

“Adrian.”

“He almost destroyed Malik’s life in thirty seconds.”

“I know.”

“And we have people who told us for years he was doing this.”

Sloan sighed.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Every complaint.”

That night, Internal Affairs began calling people.

The first person Adrian contacted was Andre Mills.

The man from the photograph.

The missing bag.

Andre did not believe him at first.

“You’re saying Mercer’s suspended?”

“Yes.”

“For what?”

“We’re investigating allegations similar to yours.”

Andre laughed bitterly.

“I told you.”

“I know.”

“No. I told you people six months ago.”

“I know.”

“You said there wasn’t enough evidence.”

“There wasn’t.”

“So what changed?”

Adrian looked at Malik’s photograph on his desk.

“Someone recorded him.”

Silence.

Andre finally asked:

“Who?”

“A young man.”

“He okay?”

“Yes.”

“Lucky.”

Adrian hated the word.

Lucky.

Malik had been lucky that an Internal Affairs investigator happened to be standing across the street.

Andre had not been.

Darius Bell had not been.

Neither had the others.

Within two weeks, investigators interviewed fourteen previous complainants.

The stories were disturbingly similar.

Mercer approached quickly.

Used vague suspicion.

Ordered compliance.

Escalated when questioned.

Searched.

Sometimes property disappeared.

Sometimes suspicious items suddenly appeared.

And afterward, Mercer controlled the report.

One man, Calvin Ross, had spent six months in jail after Mercer claimed to find stolen jewelry in his backpack.

Calvin maintained that he had never seen the jewelry.

The case ended in a plea agreement because his public defender warned him that a jury would probably believe a police officer.

Adrian found Calvin working at a car wash.

When he explained why he was there, Calvin laughed.

“You’re about three years late.”

“I know.”

“I lost my apartment.”

Adrian listened.

“My girlfriend was pregnant.”

Calvin sprayed water across a row of floor mats.